


Follow My Lead

by Astronaut_Milky



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Worship, Break Up, Cheating, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Forgiveness, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Reconciliation, Regret, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14179935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronaut_Milky/pseuds/Astronaut_Milky
Summary: Logic is telling him that this is a bad idea. That nothing good can come from sleeping with Sonny Carisi.But he is being offered perfection, so willing and desperate. And who is Rafael to turn down perfection?





	1. Push and Pull

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa, I'm actually writing something? Ridiculous.
> 
> Basically this is an Ed Sheeran songfic series thing. I listened to his latest album while driving recently, and it really inspired some classic Relationship Angst™
> 
> Each chapter is inspired by a different song from the album.
> 
> Many thanks tobeconspicuous, for being the beta this fic needs.
> 
> Song: The Shape of You
> 
> Kudos/comments are always appreciated!

The bar is hot, the air thick with sexual tension. Strangers mingle, connect, and find their person for the night. The room is lit just enough for people to see each other, the music just loud enough that Rafael can't hear anyone except for Rita, sitting opposite him.

 

“Any conquests taking your fancy?” she asks, glancing around the room, running a single finger around the rim of her glass.

 

Rafael takes the opportunity to search the space as well, craning his neck to spy a possible lover. No one grabs his attention outright, and he almost turns back to his scotch when something stops him.

 

He can't believe it's  _ him  _ that has his breath catching in his throat. Grey fitted slacks, hugging slim muscled thighs, showing off the most perfectly sculpted ass. He can't believe he recognizes Sonny Carisi from just his legs and his ass, but he isn't complaining over the sight. Especially when Carisi leans over the bar, providing a beautiful show for Rafael.

 

“No one in particular,” he mutters, averting his gaze for a brief moment.

 

It's not that he hasn't noticed Carisi's stunning form in the past, he’s certainly noticed and appreciated it. And spent far more time than he'd care to admit, fantasizing over the young detective. It's just the second Carisi opens his mouth, Rafael finds himself so overwhelmingly irritated that it overshadows his attraction.

 

So across this bar, ogling from a distance, is a perfect place for Rafael to be.

 

He lifts his eyes slightly, only to see Carisi turn around with a beer in hand, leaning on one elbow against the bar, looking cool, calm and casual.

 

Rafael feels his mouth go dry. Normally Carisi is so eager and brash, but without the pressures of the job, or Rafael's withering stare upon him, he seems to be perfectly relaxed. It should not be so attractive.

 

The crimson tie around his neck feels a little tighter now, so he hooks a finger around the knot to loosen it slightly. Rita, of course, notices it instantly.

 

“You seem flustered, Rafael.”

 

“You seem drunk, Rita,” he snaps back instantly, piercing her eyes with his own, a warning.

 

She sighs dramatically, eyeing her empty glass. “Not drunk enough, it seems.” 

 

With that, she dangles the offending glass in front of Rafael's eyes, an unsubtle hint. He isn't planning on buying her another drink, not when she owes him two rounds, but something compels him to go to the bar.

 

He glances over Rita's shoulder, only to lock eyes with sapphire orbs, eyeing him curiously. There's that compulsion again, that desire to make his way towards the bar. He almost ignores it. That is, until Carisi smirks with those damn beautiful lips of his, and he winks at Rafael.

 

He was a goner from the moment Carisi stepped foot in the bar.

 

Rafael snatches the glass out of Rita's hand and wordlessly saunters over to Carisi, never breaking the electric eye contact between them. Not that he would want to. Not when Carisi is looking so beautiful, and inviting, and just so different from the man Rafael knows at work.

 

“This doesn't seem like your scene, Detective,” he starts as soon as he reaches Carisi, resting both elbows on the bar, finally breaking the eye contact between them. He's aiming for smooth indifference, something to keep Carisi on his toes and wanting more.

 

“There's beer,” he replies, tilting the bottle in his hand as proof. “That's enough to make it my scene, I guess.”

 

“Right,” is all Rafael can offer, taking the opportunity to flag down the bartender to put his and Rita's next round on his tab.

 

He wants to keep ogling Carisi, to soak in the stunning form next to him. But being so close to the other man has him somewhat flustered, as if being so close to such beauty has rendered him speechless.

 

“I've actually walked past this place a bunch of times, but tonight is my first night here,” Carisi babbles, clearly unable to withstand any kind of silence. The cool confidence he had been exuding is drifting away with every word he says, and it fills Rafael with a sort of disappointment. “I guess I'm popping my cherry.”

 

Instantly they both cringe, and Rafael starts trying to come up with an exit strategy on the conversation.

 

“Well, I--”

 

“You here to get laid?”

 

It's that kind of honesty that normally has Rafael rolling his eyes, but in this moment it has him spluttering. “I--I’m sorry?”

 

Carisi gestures around the room. “Seems to be the vibe of the place. Drink, pick up, forget their name the next day. I haven't been here as long as you, but it seems to be slim pickings tonight.”

 

Rafael definitely can't admit that the only person he's noticed, that he  _ wants _ , is currently asking him the question, so he tries to deflect.

 

“A few have grabbed my eye, but as you so eloquently put it, it's slim pickings.”

 

Hoping that's the end of that line of questioning, Rafael gratefully accepts the drinks from the bartender.

 

“Like who?” Carisi asks, resting against the bar again. Rafael notices the way his crisp white shirt pulls tight on his arms, showing off the lean muscles beneath the fabric.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“Who is worthy of Rafael Barba's time on a Saturday night?”

 

If he didn't know any better, he'd say Carisi is flirting with him. His head is tilted slightly, his eyes are darkened and curious, and just when Rafael begins to doubt himself, Carisi rests both elbows on the bar and pops his hip to the side, showing off his spectacular ass. Rafael wonders if he can push the situation a little further.

 

“I'm not telling you that one, Detective,” he mutters, just softly enough that Carisi leans in slightly. “You'll have to figure that out yourself.”

 

Carisi considers that for a moment, before leaning in even further, tilting his head even further, looking all kinds of enticing.

 

“Not even if I buy you a drink?”

 

At that, Rafael chuckles and nods to the drinks in his hands. “I'm afraid I'm sorted in that department. And I'm afraid I have Rita waiting for me.”

 

He turns to where Rita is sitting, only to see her with a drink in hand, and a younger man fawning over her.

 

“She seems preoccupied,” Carisi says with a smirk. “How about shots instead?”

 

Rafael cocks an eyebrow at the thought. Shots with Carisi could either be a wickedly good idea, or a truly terrible one.

 

“We're going to need lime and salt,” he purrs, licking his lips slightly, delighting in the pink that dusts across Carisi's cheeks.

 

\----

 

It's just past two a.m. as they stumble from the bar, drunk and giddy, the air electric with the possibility of what might happen next.

 

Rafael never expected the conversation to flow as easily as the shots did, but then again, Carisi has always kept him on his toes. He has always suspected Carisi to be intelligent, funny, insightful, and tonight managed to confirm his suspicions.

 

But that's not why he stayed. That's not why he barely noticed Rita waving goodbye to him. That's not why he's already put his address into his Uber app, ready to take Carisi home.

 

It's what he can see that has him captivated. It's the twinkling blue eyes that find his own, filled with amusement and joy. It's the plump, pink lips that smirk and smile and have Rafael's imagination running wild. It's the long fingers, gesturing like crazy, that fill Rafael's mind with the most impure thoughts.

 

It's Carisi, somehow so perfect in his imperfections, that has lured Rafael in.

 

He opens his mouth to invite Carisi home with him, when the detective beats him to the punch.

 

The younger man towers over him, gripping those damn long fingers onto Rafael's waist, stepping forward until Rafael feels his back connect with the brick wall of the bar’s exterior.

 

“Is this okay?” Carisi breathes out, over Rafael's lips, hot and desperate.

 

The feeling of Carisi's body, pressing against him, his fingers digging in slightly, is absolutely breathtaking and overwhelming.

 

“Yes,” is all he can whisper before he's pulling Carisi's head down, colliding their lips together, unleashing months of unspoken passion and tension.

 

\----

 

Mornings were better spent alone. That's what Rafael has always believed. That waking up was an inherently ugly act, filled with sleepy eyes, messy hair, and not having to speak until coffee was made.

 

The sunlight of Sunday morning wakes him gently at first, until the pounding headache of his hangover washes over him, and he’s left with a feeling of dread and sickness. He never forgot his drunken nights. Instead they played in his mind on repeat, fast-forwarding through the events over and over again. This morning is no exception.

 

Kissing Carisi outside the bar. Then in the Uber. Then outside his apartment building.

 

Relishing in Carisi's stunning naked form as he pushes into Rafael, gentle and careful.

 

The pure bliss of a drunken climax, perfected only by the sheer wonder in Carisi's eyes.

 

All of this is on repeat, and he wonders for a brief moment if he should regret hooking up with the younger man.

 

He turns his head to the side.

 

The purple bruises of Rafael's love bites are peppered all over Carisi's pale chest. He smirks at the sight, at the way he had desperately marked his lover. Beneath one of the bruises is a small scar, no longer than an inch. He wonders how Carisi got it, when he got it.

 

A small sniff draws Rafael's eyes to Carisi's sleeping face. Relaxed and content, Rafael is almost tempted to take a photo. Instead he watches, and memorizes. He takes in the little wrinkles between Carisi's eyebrows, not from age, but from focusing on the tasks at hand. He imagines Carisi pouring over his textbooks or cases. Rafael can still see Carisi's dimples, even when he isn't smiling, and his heart swoons over just how beautiful this man is.

 

He rakes his eyes over Carisi's long arms, the same ones that had pinned him down and held him close. They are by no means muscly, rather lanky, but in Rafael's eyes they are unbelievably perfect.

 

Carisi's whole body is unbelievably perfect.

 

The fluttering of his eyes is the only warning Rafael gets that his lover is waking up, and he only manages to close his eyes just in time.

 

He feels the weight of his bed shift as Carisi shuffles closer.

 

“Mornin',” he mumbles, nuzzling against Rafael's arm. “You watchin’ me sleep?”

 

“Don't be ridiculous,” Rafael croaks out.

 

For a moment they are silent. That is, until Carisi groans loudly.

 

“I've gotta go, lunch with the parents,” he sighs, rolling onto his back. Rafael doesn't try to pull him closer.

 

“Right.”

 

He finally opens his eyes as Carisi leaves the bed, taking a moment to appreciate his body in the light of morning. It's more stunning than he remembers.

 

“Last night was fun,” he starts as he pulls on his clothes from the night before. 

 

Rafael's heart seizes. Sure, he doesn't mind Carisi's company. But especially at this point in his life, he can't put his energy into anything more than hook-ups like they had last night. Something in Carisi's voice has him thinking that perhaps he wants something more. He can't give Carisi something more.

 

“It was.”

 

He watches as Carisi, now fully clothed, climbs onto the bed again, leaning over Rafael. “If you ever want a repeat, you know where to find me.”

 

With a quick press of his lips to Rafael's, Carisi leaves him in bed, alone but not lonely. He rolls over, only to be met with the scent of Carisi’s cologne, clinging to his sheets.

 

Rafael smirks. Maybe they can have what he can give.

 

\----

 

Work is Rafael's life. He puts his entire being into it, and even though the reward never quite matches his input, it's still worth it. It's worth it because that's what he loves.

 

It's work that keeps him so busy all week that he can barely find the energy to maintain a personal life. So when Carisi sends a message on the Friday, asking if he's busy that weekend, he can't bring himself to reply. He knows as soon as he can take a breath, he'll be able to, but that probably won't be until Saturday.

 

He leaves work just past eight o'clock, more excited than he'd care to admit, that in less than an hour, he'll be eating Thai food from the place near his building.

 

“Counselor?” If it wasn't for Carisi's grating accent, Rafael wouldn't have even paid the man any attention. But he recognizes the voice and in his surprise, whips his head up to see Carisi walking up to him. “Perfect timing, I was just going to wrangle you from your paperwork to get some dinner.”

 

“I'm afraid Carmen beat you to the wrangling,” he warily replies. He thinks he had been somewhat clear the last time they had seen each other, that they were not dating, though perhaps verbalising it would have been better. Just as he opens his mouth to make his intentions known, Sonny chuckles and taps his arm with his elbow.

 

“Would you relax, Barba? I just figured you hadn't eaten, and I wanted to pick your brain about something.”

 

There's an earnest quality to the childish puppy dog look that Carisi is giving him, which is the only thing preventing Rafael from rolling his eyes and walking away.

 

“You're paying?” he asks, his stomach growling at the thought of free food.

 

Carisi grins widely, and Rafael pointedly ignores the way his stomach churns differently at the sight.

 

“Of course, Counselor.”

 

\----

 

When Carisi had asked him what his original dinner plans were, he hadn't expected to find himself in the Thai place a few buildings down from his apartment. But Carisi had insisted on hailing the cab to take them there, and for a moment Rafael is almost looking forward to the dinner.

 

But of course, Carisi has a million questions about the law, about being an ADA, about the process of getting to where Rafael is now. 

 

He answers of course, because the man is paying for his Pad Khi Mao, but it is incredibly draining after a hard week at work.

 

The questions continue long into the meal, and Rafael tries to ignore the fact that once food is in his stomach, he finds himself much more jovial and helpful. 

 

He's not sure when the conversation shifts. Some moment between discussing intuition and objections, and Carisi regaling Rafael in yet another tale about one of his sister's, he finds himself thoroughly enjoying the other man's presence. A warm flutter of his heart sends warning signals to the logical part of his mind, but as he watches Carisi pull himself from the plastic booth, he ignores it.

 

Because Carisi is still in a suit from work, and it's navy and fitted, hugging him in all the right spots. Carisi is pulling his wallet out to throw down some cash for the meal, making a show of those long fingers that Rafael knows can do so much more. Carisi is leaning in close, his nose brushing Rafael's ear.

 

“Your place is closer,” he mutters, the deep cadence of his voice shooting lust through his veins.

 

He lifts his eyes to meet the ice blue of Carisi's, and for a moment he loses himself in the pure, honest desire of the younger man.

 

The warning signals ring loud in his ears at the sight of Carisi looking a touch too soft for what they are, for what they have.

 

He can't stop himself.

 

“Follow my lead,” he purrs as he pulls himself out of the booth.

 

He glances over his shoulder to see Carisi running a hand over his mouth, so clearly enjoying the display Rafael is putting on, awe lighting up his eyes.

 

Rafael smirks, letting his eyes travel slowly but surely over every part of Carisi's beautiful body.

 

Logic is telling him that this is a bad idea. That nothing good can come from sleeping with Sonny Carisi. 

 

But he is being offered perfection, so willing and desperate. And who is Rafael to turn down perfection?

 

_ Logic be damned, _ he thinks to himself.


	2. Here in Your Aeroplane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He imagines holding hands, strolling past the courthouse, showing the world they have each other. He imagines seeing a movie, stealing kisses in the back row like a pair of teenagers. He imagines falling hopelessly and ridiculously in love with Barba, it doesn't feel like much of a stretch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoooo I'm back back back again with an update and some fun introspection.
> 
> Many thanks tobeconspicuous for the beta!
> 
> Song: Dive

It's always the children that get to Sonny.

 

The pure innocence of a child is something that should never be taken away, Sonny cannot stand when someone defiles it. It fills him with a sickening rage, one that bubbles under the surface with every word, every breath.

 

It's been two days of evidence and confessions of a child sex-trafficking ring, Sonny is drained. He can't meet anyone's eyes as he leaves the bullpen for the day, but he suspects they are feeling the same. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Amanda place a hand on her stomach, a silent vow to protect her child. The bile creeps up his throat a little more.

 

The air is nearly stifling, the humidity overpowering. He just wants to go home. To sleep or drink. He contemplates calling Barba, if anything for some company, though if he's really being honest he wants specifically Barba's company. But he knows that's not what they have, that's not what they are.

 

They aren't comfort, or care. They are a release.

 

Sonny thinks he might just be okay with that.

 

“Carisi.” His last name comes out as almost a bark, but it's the voice that has him surprised. He turns around to see Barba, leaning against the wall of the building.

 

He has his suit jacket slung over his arm, his sleeves rolled up, looking all sorts of casual in a way that makes Sonny’s knees go weak.

 

“Barba. What are you doing here?”

 

The older man shrugs, pushing himself away from the wall. “It's Friday night. There's a bar near here that has hot wings and cheap beer, if you're interested.”

 

The proposition is harmless enough. He'd almost take it to be a simple meal between co-workers, if they were just co-workers, if he hadn't spent the past two months fucking Barba all over Manhattan.

 

If it were anyone other than Rafael Barba, Sonny would be actively searching for some greater meaning in the gesture.

 

But it's Barba, the king of compartmentalizing. For now, he is co-worker. Sonny knows he shouldn't look into it.

 

But as they are walking along, he pays close attention. He notices how Barba puffs his chest, elongates his spine, anything to seem just that little bit taller, as if his personality didn't already make him larger than life. The way his eyes show every single emotion he's feeling, squinting and widening often, even if he doesn't verbalize his thoughts. The way he glances in Sonny's direction, catching his eye, and smiles slightly. On anyone else, it would barely be a grimace. For Barba, it's a fully-fledged grin.

 

Sonny smiles right back, all the while cursing his hopeful heart as it skips a beat.

 

\----

 

Barba was right, the bar definitely has hot wings. His lips are burning as he polishes off the last of his plate, surprising himself at his appetite. The past few days have left him unable to stomach food, but he suspects being in Barba's presence has relaxed him.

 

It's a beautiful change that Barba won't stop talking. Ever since they ordered their beers, with Sonny not even commenting on the fact that Barba is drinking beer, Barba has been talking.

 

It starts small, talking about his week at work, about dealing with Buchanan _again._ Sonny can't bring himself to chime in, to offer an opinion. He’s just hanging on every word, even as Barba starts talking about his mother.

 

_His mother._

 

Sonny has never heard a word about Barba's mother, other than little snippets from the squad. Now he's hearing everything. How she calls once a week, demanding updates on Rafael's life. How he goes for a monthly lunch with her, where she grills him on why she doesn't have grandchildren. How he still doesn't think he's good enough for her love.

 

Sonny barely has time to register the honest confession, before Barba is throwing back the last of his beer and leaving to buy another round.

 

_It has to mean something._

 

That's all Sonny can think.

 

It has to mean something that Barba has brought him here, that he's let Sonny in to another side of him. That he's opened up to Sonny.

 

A flash of a memory crosses his mind.

 

_“'Manda, you've got no idea what you're on about,” he slurred as they stumbled out of the bar._

 

_“Hey, I know what I heard, and what I heard is, Barba’s a little cocktease. Leads people on.”_

 

Her words ring loud in his ears. She had heard somewhere on the grapevine that Barba had a pattern. He slept with people to a certain point, until they got attached, then he cut them off. At the time, he didn't care, not really. They had slept together twice, it was still casual.

 

But Sonny suspects it's not now. He suspects he has grown fond of Barba, of his little eyerolls, his biting wit, his soft smirks. He can't help the flip his stomach does, just over the thought of _dating_ Barba.

 

He imagines holding hands, strolling past the courthouse, showing the world they have each other. He imagines seeing a movie, stealing kisses in the back row like a pair of teenagers. He imagines falling hopelessly and ridiculously in love with Barba, it doesn't feel like much of a stretch.

 

As Barba returns with two beers, and launches into a tale of what Calhoun was like at Harvard, Sonny smiles warmly. He's not sure if he'll have to imagine for much longer.

 

\----

 

“So, Barba,” he starts as they step out into the warm night. “Up for a walk?”

 

The prosecutor squints slightly at him, showing one of those unnamed, unspoken emotions that Sonny loves to decipher. Those piercing eyes, a sea of green that Sonny wants to dive into.

 

“Sure,” he simply settles on, leading them on an aimless stroll.

 

“How did you find out about that place?” Sonny asks after a few minutes of somewhat comfortable silence.

 

Barba shrugs. “Went there a few months ago. Seemed like your kind of scene.”

 

Sonny takes that in for a moment. A question forms in his mind, one he can't believe he hadn't asked already.

 

“Why did you stop by tonight?” He reaches an arm out, bringing the both of them to a stop. “Why did you ask me to dinner?”

 

Once again, Barba shrugs. “Liv mentioned the week you had, and I knew you'd need alcohol and fatty food.”

 

The answer doesn't satisfy Sonny's curiosity, but before he can push the topic, Barba is walking on.

 

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Sonny catches up, desperate to be close to his lover.

 

“So you went to that place a few months ago?” he prompts, trying to get Barba talking again.

 

“Yep, a guy thought it'd be a good place for a date. Suffice to say, he was wrong.”

 

A thousand thoughts run through his mind.

 

The one at the forefront of his mind however, is that this wasn't a date. He wouldn't have brought Sonny there if it was.

 

He shakes his head. The signs had been there, that they were heading towards something more, but clearly not in Barba's eyes.

 

“A date, huh?” He cringes instantly at how petulant and bitter he sounds, and prays Barba doesn't notice.

 

A foolish prayer in hindsight.

 

“Problem, Detective?” he questions, a bite to his tone as he stops in his tracks.

 

“Nah, just…” he trails off as he turns to face Barba. His expression is steeled, as if he's bracing himself for a fight. It claws at Sonny's heart. He doesn't want this to be a fight. “I guess I didn't know what tonight meant.”

 

Barba almost gives him a pitying look, it sparks a flash of annoyance in him.

 

“Tonight doesn't have to mean anything, Carisi. It's not like it was something different for us.” His lips are quirked into a little smirk, because he knows he's right.

 

The annoyed feeling increases slightly. Sonny is being coddled, he doesn't appreciate it.

 

“I know that,” he snaps slightly. “I just… I don't know.”

 

The deflation of his anger is quick and instant. He can't be mad at Barba, not when he's been clear with how he's felt from the start.

 

“Don't think too much,” Barba murmurs, stepping a little closer, invading his personal space slightly. Sonny's heart leaps to his throat. “Just know that we are two adults, who sometimes need each other in a different way than just co-worker, and that's okay.”

 

Barba lifts onto his toes to capture Sonny's lips, tentatively but filled with unspoken lust. It should be enough to distract Sonny. But that word is flashing through his mind.

 

_Need._

 

Does he need Barba? His traitorous mind screams at him.

 

_Yes._

 

Does Barba need him? That he doesn't know.

 

He has to know.

 

_It's sink or swim. Fall or fly._

 

He pushes Barba off, and the confused expression on his face is almost adorable, but not enough to distract him from the task at hand.

 

“We need each other?” He hates that it comes out so breathy, almost whiny.

 

Barba rolls his eyes, but it's not with as much affection as it normally is, rather it's annoyed, impatient.

 

“Come on, _baby_ , you know what I mean,” he purrs, almost mocking, and tries to lean in for a kiss again.

 

But that anger is back in full swing.

 

“No.” He steps back, searching the ground for a solution to his heartache. “No, I'm sorry, but you don't get to use pet names like that, not if you don't mean it.”

 

“Carisi--”

 

“No, you're right,” he nods, probably a little too fast to seem natural. “We're co-workers. We sleep together. But… we're never going to be anything more, are we?”

 

There's that pitying look again, the one that answers Sonny's question before he speaks, those eyes revealing more than Barba will ever say.

 

“No.”

 

Sonny's nodding again now. He's nodding, understanding.

 

“It’s okay. Better I know now.”

 

He can't feel angry. Barba has been honest from the start.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on.” It's the most honest Barba has ever sounded. The truth of it hits him, hard and brutal.

 

Sonny turns away, knowing he must look like he's on the brink of tears.

 

“You didn't. I just… you didn't.”

 

It's silently agreed that this is the end. Nothing more needs to be said.

 

So Sonny walks away, without looking back.

 

He's glad he put his feelings out there, if anything to cement them for himself.

 

He's also glad he didn't let it get any further. Sonny knows he has a tendency to fall a little too hard, too fast. To come on too strong. He's not ashamed of that.

 

He got the truth out of Barba, that's all he needed.

 

That's what he tells himself as he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, willing the tears to dry up.

 

_Now I'm free._


	3. Someone New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not that he didn't have feelings for Sonny. He wanted to spent time around him, to know him better, and in turn be known better. Hell, on that last night, he had found himself opening up more than he'd done in a very long time. But as soon as he was being offered the chance of a future with Sonny, he felt his heart ice over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, is there any plot anymore? No. No, this is pure introspection. Hope you enjoy Insecure thoughts lads, because that's what you're getting.
> 
> Song: Happier

The October chill is biting and brutal, unforgiving in its windy torment. It nips at Rafael's cheeks as he walks down Park Avenue, stinging his eyes.

 

He huffs a little as he strides along, certain his glare is withering. The amber leaves lift and twirl in the wind, brushing across his path. For a moment, Rafael follows their trail with his eyes, watching the way they dance in the wind.

 

Fall.

 

A time where the weather cools down, nature shifts and decays, and the heart longs to be lifted.

 

He's never been the type to seek out a lover or partner around this time of year. Then again, he's never quite had a year like this. He's never quite felt this pang of loneliness, of heartache.

 

Rafael checks his watch. He's only five minutes late for coffee with Rita, which is pretty good for him these days. He sighs dramatically as he reaches a stop light. Just another thing holding him back from complaining to Rita about his woes.

 

The world never gives a warning when it's about to change. There's no message in the sky, no atmosphere shift, nothing that burns on your skin to tell you that something is coming.

 

Rafael has no warning when he stops to stare at his shoes for a moment, noticing a few scuff marks that he really should sort out. He has no warning when he lifts his eyes, waiting for the light to change, only to be met with a heart-wrenching sight.

 

It's like he's been dunked in ice water, colder than the wind that rushes past him.

 

He's barely seen Sonny at work, not since he stamped down whatever declaration of love he was certain Sonny was going to give him, turning the younger man away for good.

 

So to see Sonny across the road on a Saturday morning, it cracks him open completely.

 

Because Sonny isn't alone.

 

 _God,_ Rafael wishes he was alone.

 

But no, Sonny is standing on the sidewalk, hand-in-hand with another man. He's heard about this guy from Liv and Rollins.

 

He's heard how Sonny was so nervous, but excited, to tell them that he was seeing someone. He’s heard how this guy is taking Sonny on lavish dates, putting their relationship on display for the world to see. He’s heard that any time Sonny has talked about this guy, his face has lit up beautifully, pure happiness.

 

Rafael is seeing it first hand. He's seeing the way Sonny blushes as the taller man leans in, whispering something in his ear. How his beautiful blue eyes shine as he stares into his lover's eyes. He watches as Sonny pulls the man closer, lifting his hand to his cheek, so tender an action that Rafael's heart beats wildly at the sight.

 

Sonny has managed to find this happiness, only a month after Rafael turned him down.

 

That could have been him. If he had just stopped and considered what Sonny truly meant to him, that could have been them standing on that corner.

 

_He links their fingers together, giving Sonny's hand a quick squeeze, an acknowledgement as he brings them to a halt._

 

_Sonny looks down at him, his eyes crinkling with the beginning of a smile. Rafael can't resist._

 

_He pulls Sonny a little closer, lifting onto his toes to whisper in his ear._

 

_“You look beautiful right now.”_

 

_Sonny blushes, rose pink, a perfect shade to bring out the fairness of his skin. His eyes shine bright and wide, the most beautiful blue orbs, a kind of perfection that Rafael desperately wants to lose himself in._

 

_Sonny tugs a little on his hand, the only hint he needs to step closer. His lover's hand lifts to his cheek, a familiar gesture between them. It's warm, affectionate, and more than anything Rafael deserves._

 

He blinks twice, washing away the fantasy, just in time to see Sonny and his partner stepping into a vibrant, hip bar.

 

There's that loneliness again. He knows it's his fault. He couldn't give what Sonny needed.

 

It's not that he didn't have feelings for Sonny. He wanted to spent time around him, to know him better, and in turn be known better. Hell, on that last night, he had found himself opening up more than he'd done in a very long time. But as soon as he was being offered the chance of a future with Sonny, he felt his heart ice over.

 

The usual excuses ran through his mind. He's too old. He's too bitter. He's too used up.

 

He’s too unhappy.

 

Sonny deserves happiness.

 

He whips out his phone to text Rita, saying he won't be making their coffee date. He's certain she'll see the despair beneath the blunt message.

 

The lights change, and he uses it to propel himself forwards, searching a for a place dark and dingy enough to wallow in his pain.

 

Sure enough, a block away there is a bar, one where solitude and anonymity are accepted as the norm. He orders three fingers of scotch, and plonks himself down on a stool at the bar.

 

He looks up, spying a mirror on the wall, only to instantly cringe and duck his head. It serves only to remind him of how pathetic he is. His eyes are red, from either sleepless nights or tears wanting to spill. His jaw is clenched, almost to a point of pain.

 

That last night.

 

He thought that it was going to be so easy. He thought that it was the absolute right decision. Protect himself, keep things simple, prevent Sonny's pain.

 

Instead, he hurt Sonny. He saw it in those crystal blue eyes the second he said that fucking word -- _baby._ A stupid joke that he thought would coax a laugh out of Sonny, instead it seemed to cut through him.

 

He hurt Sonny so badly, and he knows he doesn't deserve Sonny, but that doesn't change the truth.

 

He loves Sonny.

 

With a mumbled order, he drains the last of his glass and takes the bottle of scotch that the bartender hands him. Something about sitting at the bar makes him feel exposed.

 

He drops into a booth in the corner of the bar, a dark place, much more fitting for his self-pitying state.

 

For a while, he drinks his pain away, glaring at the empty seat before him. The maroon leather, with rips and stains, mocks him with his own loneliness.

 

_“Come on, Raf, cheer up,” Sonny teases as he drops into the seat in front of him. “I was only gone a few minutes.”_

 

_Rafael let's a shadow of a smile creep in, before planting a fake scowl upon his features._

 

_“Which means you were denying me scotch, a few minutes too long,” he snaps back, though there's no bite in his words. There never could be, not when it comes to Sonny._

 

_“Yeah, yeah, here you go,” he drawls, handing Rafael his drink._

 

_He smiles good-naturedly, as he always does when Rafael teases him._

 

_They understand each other._

 

_Sonny sips his beer, his pink lips wrapping gorgeously around the head, distracting Rafael from whatever he was going to say next._

 

_“I love you.” The phrase slips out before he can stop himself, but he doesn't regret it. He could never regret speaking the truth._

 

_Sonny's eyes widen almost comically, before they soften, filled with more tender love than Rafael deserves._

 

_“Raf,” he whispers._

 

_“Don't feel pressured to say it back,” he stammers, nervous in a way that only Sonny could make him. “Just know that's how I feel.”_

 

_“I don't feel pressured,” Sonny murmurs, beaming, reaching out for Rafael's hand. “I love you too.”_

 

Rafael blinks furiously, the daydream of Sonny disappearing instantly. It clearly isn't real. Sonny would never smile like that with him.

 

He curses that in his mind, he was able to tell Sonny exactly how he feels. That in his dreams, he could make Sonny happy. That in his fantasies, he could love Sonny.

 

His phone vibrates, and he contemplates ignoring it and instead polishing off the rest of his bottle of scotch. But he knows it's Rita, warning him not to stand her up again, and she's expecting a prompt reply.

 

He pulls his phone out to check the message.

 

 **_R:_ ** _You will find your happiness one day._

 

Rafael almost believes her.


	4. Get There Eventually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this is what he's been missing. Being heard, being wanted, being unbelievably connected. No matter what has happened between them, he's always had that with Rafael. Maybe that's what he's been missing with Jeremy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowowowow I haven't updated in a week, which as you guys know is a LIFETIME FOR ME.
> 
> I'm so sorry all, life has been absolutely cooked lately, I've been non-stop at work (days off? I don't know her.)
> 
> Please accept this offering of delicious, classic, Mumma's Recipe Angst
> 
> Many thanks as always tobeconspicuous, this fic would be HORRENDOUS without her perfect input

Sonny’s couch is normally his haven, his escape from the world. Curling up, reading a book, or zoning out to bad reality television, the cheap couch he's had for almost a decade, it's home.

 

The comfort it normally provides is not there, not tonight. Not any night for the past two months.

 

Sonny has never considered himself a weak man, or someone with no spine. So he's not sure how he ended up in this position.

 

Waiting.

 

He's waiting for his partner to come over.

 

He checks his watch.

 

_ 11:10pm. _

 

The scratchy fabric of the couch, normally endearing, aggravates his anxiety. He wants to go to bed, but something keeps him staring at the flashing colours of the television screen, not taking in the images at all. Something keeps him on this couch.

 

No, not something.

 

Someone.

 

He knows he shouldn't. 

 

He checks his watch.

 

_ 11:11pm. _

 

Sonny wants to  _ talk  _ to someone. That's what he craves in a relationship, the ability to be able to talk about nothing and everything, that tender feeling of not only being seen, but being heard.

 

How pathetic he feels, sitting on his damn couch.

 

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

 

Sonny almost doesn't check it. He knows who it will be, or at least he thinks he does.

 

His hands have a mind of their own, scrambling for the phone to read the message.  _ How pathetic,  _ he thinks.

 

**_R:_ ** _ Are you awake? _

 

The phone is heavy with the weight of the message. He knows he shouldn't. There a thousand and one reasons why he shouldn't reply. He ignores every single one.

 

**_S:_ ** _ Yes. _

 

_ \---- _

 

The cab ride is spent overthinking every part of his life over the past few months.

 

He and Jeremy had started so strong, so full of love and warmth that Sonny thought he had found the cure to his heartache, something to melt the ice that had settled in his veins, ever since they had silently accepted the end.

 

It wasn't instant neglect. For a while, Sonny thought Jeremy was just busy. He stopped answering his phone during the day, stopped wanting to do things on weekends. 

 

Every night though, he'd come over to Sonny's apartment. They would make love, or just kiss each other, and fall asleep next to one another; a remnant of the beginnings of their relationship. However, when morning came, Sonny always found himself alone, his bed cold.

 

He thinks Jeremy started cheating about a month into this new arrangement. Although he's never had hard proof, the signs have been there.

 

Vodka, on his breath at midnight.  _ He doesn't drink vodka. _

 

Cheap cologne, the kind that lingers in a bad way.  _ Not his cologne. _

 

The look in his eyes, cold and detached.  _ He's not here. _

 

\----

 

Sonny likes their bar, their regular haunt. It's a little rough around the edges, loud, a place where they can escape their woes.

 

Rafael looks like half the man he truly is, hunched over his scotch at the end of the bar. It's the same Rafael that he's seen over the past few weeks. Someone insecure and unsure. A shadow of the prosecutor's former self.

 

He crosses through the crowd, silently taking his place next to Rafael. Their places.

 

Silence is the beginning of their conversation. It always is. They drink their drinks, and they wait.

 

“I went to the gym on Tuesday.” And so it begins, Rafael's lamenting. “Can you imagine? Me, going to the gym?”

 

He scoffs and throws back the rest of his scotch, using two fingers to gesture for another round. Sonny watches the bartender nod, a confirmation. He knows them, knows their patterns. It's almost sad.

 

“Nah, I can't,” he simply replies, sipping some of his beer.

 

“I ate a kale salad and went to the fucking gym.” The bitterness is overwhelming, and Sonny can't help the wave of annoyance that surges through him.

 

This is what it has been.

 

They meet up and Rafael spends hours complaining about his new life. Sonny stays. Sonny stays, and he listens. Because at the end of it all, Rafael will lean back and ask how Sonny is going.

 

Sonny is heard by someone. 

 

_ How pathetic. _

 

“When did I become this person?” Sonny opens his mouth to respond, to give Rafael the truth. “Don't say it. I know.”

 

“I won't then.”

 

More silence, contemplation. Sonny glances to the side, but Rafael is pointedly looking forwards. He always does. Sonny suspects it's because he can't face him, not when he's so vulnerable.

 

They sit side-by-side, almost comfortably.

 

“He got a new tattoo the other day,” Rafael mutters after a moment. “Tribal.”

 

Sonny doesn't try to hide the scoff. “Wow.”

 

The new guy. The Sonny Carisi replacement. A younger guy, with a bleached asshole and a six-pack. Sonny knows he shouldn't feel jealous. It's not like Rafael is in a relationship with the guy. Rafael doesn't  _ do _ relationships.

 

Still, it sparks fire through his veins.

 

“I wish I had… something different.”

 

It all stops for a moment. The jealousy, the routine. Rafael doesn't do this. He doesn't talk about changing, he doesn't  _ want  _ to change. He complains about his life, and doesn't ever try to fix the problem.

 

This is new.

 

“Different?” he prompts, making a point to not look Rafael's way. If he does, Rafael will probably back away from revealing himself, his desires.

 

He's not sure what he wants from Rafael.

 

But when Rafael reaches his hand out, grasping gently onto Sonny's forearm, he's certainly surprised.

 

It seems to take a lifetime, turning his head towards Rafael finally. Rafael who is facing him, open with his body. His eyes are somehow gentle and dark all at once, iridescent in the amber light of the bar.

 

Sonny feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

 

He ignores it as he leans forward, as Rafael tilts his head, as they sigh into a soft kiss, one filled with unspoken apologies.

 

Maybe this is what he's been missing. Being heard, being wanted, being unbelievably connected. No matter what has happened between them, he's always had that with Rafael. Maybe that's what he's been missing with Jeremy.

 

_ Jeremy. _

 

They break apart, though for a moment Sonny lets his forehead rest against Rafael's, relishing in the final moment of being one with him.

 

Then Rafael's phone rings. He pulls back from Sonny instantly, answering the phone.

 

“Hey.” Instantly Sonny knows. It's him. “Yeah, I'll… I'll be there soon.”

 

Rafael glances Sonny's way, briefly, before turning away in shame. He hangs up.

 

“Time to go?” His voice is bitter, and for once Sonny is not ashamed of that.

 

“I don't know why I'm with him.” Another confession, a moment of honesty.

 

It doesn't settle the anger in Sonny's heart.

 

“Does he know you're here? With me?” He snaps, unleashing everything he has been holding back. “Because you have spent the past month begging me to spend time with you, just to bitch and complain about this guy, and I'm sure he wouldn't want to know about me. If you were meant to be something with him, you wouldn't be here, so stop using me as a backup, or some kind of release.”

 

He exhales, shakily, and watches.

 

He watches the wide-eyed hurt in Rafael's eyes, the way his face cracks with the realization of the truth. It stings, but Sonny can't back down from his hurt.

 

He watches the way Rafael's face morphs, contorts from pain to anger. The furrowed eyebrows, the clenched jaw. Only Rafael could make offended rage almost attractive.

 

He watches the moment Rafael steels his expression, his emotions.  _ Ice. _ That's what Sonny likens it to. Cold and unforgiving, beautiful but tragic. Nothing will melt Rafael's pain.

 

“Don't act like you're not doing the same thing.” 

 

The undeniable venom spitting from Rafael's muttered words, drips hot through Sonny's veins. 

 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to think of an appropriate comeback. He doesn't know how to respond though. To respond with more rage seems petulant, childish. If he allows the tears that are building, to fall from his eyes, he'll appear weak. Laughter almost bursts from his throat, though he's certain he'll appear crazy.

 

So he opts for silence.

 

Rafael huffs, and it's this action that spurs Sonny on, guiding his feet out of the bar as he leaves without another word.

 

Their bar, now tainted by their betrayal.

 

Sonny considers Rafael's words.

 

Was he doing the same thing?

 

_ Yes. _

 

Was he trying to find all of those missing parts in his relationship, with Rafael?

 

_ Yes. _

 

Is he happy with Jeremy?

 

_ No. _

 

Does he love Rafael?

 


	5. You Are the One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny. You are everything that I am terrified of. You are honesty, and communication, and love… you are everything I am sure I don't deserve, and I have taken every opportunity to prove to you that I don't deserve you. But it would kill me if you didn't know the extent of my emotions for you…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally FINISHED IT!!!!
> 
> This fic has beaten me down, probably because my brain prefers binge watching romcom tv shows right now, as opposed to writing.
> 
> But we're done!
> 
> Many thanks to keraunoscopia for helping with this fic, and to tobeconspicuous for the beta (however I did add stuff after she beta'd so if it reads weird, it's that stuff)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> Song: How Would You Feel

**_L:_ ** _He's been shot. He's okay._

 

The message has been playing on Rafael's mind for three days.

 

Sonny has been shot.

 

Liv has continually reminded him that Sonny is okay. That it was just a graze, and that he is fine.

 

Every time he thinks of that message though, he scoffs. He knows Sonny. He knows Sonny would have sat there, and spouted that everything was okay, that he was okay. He would have lied to ease the worries of others.

 

Because that's who Sonny is. The kind of person who considers others before himself. The kind of person Rafael aspires to be. The kind of person Rafael could love.

 

That he does love.

 

God, does he love Sonny.

 

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but for Rafael it has just made the truth apparent. Love was always there, stamped down with ignorance, but without Sonny in his life, Rafael is now painfully aware of it.

 

Love is not a cure, or a fix-it, and after everything Rafael has done, he knows it's not enough. He wasn't even going to attend Liv's party, at least not until he had dinner with his mother the night beforehand.

 

_“Rafi, I can't help but notice you've come to this dinner alone. Again.” Rafael scoffed and sipped his scotch, a deflection. “Answer me, Rafi.”_

 

_“I can't help matters that are out of my control,” he muttered, throwing back the last of his drink._

 

_“What makes you think that finding love is out of your control?”_

 

_There were a few ways he could approach it, but he settled on surprising honesty._

 

_“Because I found it, and I lost it. Well, I let it slip away. I pushed it away.”_

 

_A kind of pitying silence fell upon them as Rafael bore his gaze into the tablecloth._

 

_“Rafi,” she finally spoke, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it. “No matter how much you don't believe, no matter how many times you push it away… you deserve love.”_

 

_He cocked an eyebrow, lifting his gaze to meet hers, only to be met with steely determination._

 

_“Is that so?”_

 

_“I'm your mother. If I say it's so, it's so,” she snapped, with not a hint of malice in her voice._

 

_He laughed, somehow feeling lighter than he ever thought possible._

 

_Maybe she was right._

 

\----

 

Rafael feels like an absolute creeper, watching Sonny from across Liv's living room. He prays he's being subtle enough that Sonny hasn't noticed his staring, though if he has noticed, it's not showing on his face.

 

Rafael runs through his speech again, the one he's hoping lays all his cards on the table.

 

_Sonny. You are everything that I am terrified of. You are honesty, and communication, and love… you are everything I am sure I don't deserve, and I have taken every opportunity to prove to you that I don't deserve you. But it would kill me if you didn't know the extent of my emotions for you…_

 

“Busy brooding?” Amanda's voice pops up next to him, playful and far too knowing for Rafael's liking.

 

“Can't say I know what you're talking about,” he mutters on a sigh.

 

“C’mon, Counselor, fourth of July is all about celebrating, not moping,” she teases, nudging him slightly.

 

“Silence is not moping.”

 

“Sure,” she agrees, nodding. “But ogling Carisi is definitely moping.”

 

His heart seizes, though he holds his poker face well. “Sonny told you?”

 

“Didn't have to. You two were never as subtle as you thought.” Rafael groans at the realisation that the whole squad most likely knows about their tumultuous relationship. “Well, Sonny wasn't.”

 

They both glance over to Sonny, who is deep in a ridiculous argument with Fin, something about a baseball team. Rafael's whole body warms with affection.

 

“He's never been great at hiding his emotions,” he whispers, surprising them both with the comment.

 

“I'm glad you said that.” Rafael turns his head to Amanda, who is now giving him such an encouraging and supportive look that he's almost confronted by it. “It's how I know he's ready… for you.”

 

With that, Amanda leaves him in his corner, shocked into silence. He stares into his near-empty glass, contemplating his next move.

 

It's time.

 

He gulps the last of his drink, and exhales, ready to face Sonny.

 

Sonny who isn't there anymore.

 

He whips his head around, trying to find the taller man, only to see him slipping out the front door of Liv's apartment.

 

From across the room, he spies Amanda and Liv nodding towards him, encouraging him.

 

It terrifies him and surges him forwards, simultaneously.

 

He can do this.

 

\----

 

The rooftop is quiet, with warm gusts of wind blowing past, making Rafael sweat even more.

 

He's nervous.

 

This could make things worse.

 

Or it couldn't.

 

He steps forward.

 

Sonny is resting his hands on the concrete ledge, his angelic face lit up beautifully by the cool lights of the city, by the dimming warm sunset. It's too perfect.

 

Rafael forgets everything. The second Sonny turns to him, and his eyes widen with surprise, Rafael forgets his whole speech.

 

His throat dries up.

 

“Rafael,” he murmurs. “You're here.”

 

“I am.” He steps forward, just as Sonny turns out to face the city once again. “How's your arm?”

 

“Fine.”

 

He knows he deserves that clipped tone, but it hurts all the same.

 

When Rafael reaches his former lover, he follows his eyeline, watching as the sun nearly drops below the horizon.

 

“It's beautiful isn't it?” Sonny finally speaks, soft and filled with awe. “No matter how many times I see it, it's still beautiful.”

 

Rafael turns to face Sonny, who seems to be making a point of looking out to the city.

 

“I know what you mean,” he replies, raking his eyes over the slope of Sonny's nose, the perfect plump of his lips, his glistening eyes. Still beautiful.

 

They stay in their tableau for a while. Sonny watching the city drift from day to night. Rafael watching Sonny, waiting.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

There it is.

 

“I… I know I have hurt you,” he starts, trying to find the words he had memorized.

 

“You have.” He won't meet Rafael's eyes.

 

“I regret that… every day since I first turned you away, I've--”

 

“You have hurt me,” he repeats, finally turning to Rafael. He expects some kind of hurt or rage. But Sonny is soft, gentle. “God, Raf, you’ve hurt me bad. It took months after we… after we last kissed.”

 

“I know, and I regret--”

 

“So do I,” Sonny cuts in. “But not because we kissed. I don't think I could ever regret kissing you. We just shouldn't have done it that way.”

 

Rafael nods, he’s right. An act of love from a moment of broken trust is not love. It's selfishness. They were selfish.

 

He doesn't want to be that toxic anymore, or bring that darkness to Sonny.

 

“We weren't in a healthy place for each other. I wasn't… I think I was in a self-destructive state,” Rafael tries to explain.

 

“It wasn't just you… but you're right.”

 

“There's nothing I can say that can make up for the things I've done,” he chokes out, more emotional than he intended. That's what Sonny does to him. “Words are my life, and right now they're failing me.”

 

It's then that Sonny gives him a shadow of a smile, one that says everything will be alright, and Rafael feels years younger, almost free.

 

“The words will come to you.”

 

It hits Rafael then. He thinks he might know what Sonny needs. It's a risk, especially if he doesn't feel the same, but Sonny has always been worth that risk.

 

“Sonny,” he whispers, reaching an arm around the taller man's waist, hoping that it's okay that he does. Sonny leans into the touch, into the embrace, and rests his chin upon Rafael's head. “I have something to ask you.”

 

“This better not be a proposal, Raf,” Sonny teases.

 

He should be annoyed by the poor excuse for a joke, but he's really not. It's what he loves about Sonny, about them.

 

“You're so funny,” he groans affectionately. “But no…”

 

He sucks in a deep breath, taking in Sonny's scent. He's missed this, them.

 

“Yes?” Sonny sounds breathy, nervous.

 

“How would you feel…” he starts, lifting his gaze to meet the sapphire blue he loves to lose himself in. “If I told you I loved you?”

 

His heart is pounding in his ears, leaping to his throat, absolutely freaking out over what Sonny's response might be.

 

“Raf,” is the only warning he gets before Sonny is pressing a hand to his cheek, his thumb brushing softly across it, coaxing goosebumps from him. “I love you too.”

 

It's almost too much when they kiss, and the beginnings of the fourth of July fireworks start lighting off in the distance.

 

All Rafael can register is the lips against his own, the explosive bangs of the fireworks, and the love surging through his veins.

 

They break apart, and press their foreheads together. Rafael watches the blue and red lights that are flashing across Sonny's face, the way his eyes are crinkled from his wide smile.

 

“I want to take my time with you, and do it right this time,” he confesses. “I just want to keep falling in love with you.”

 

Sonny blushes wonderfully and ducks his head. “You're full of poetry tonight, Raf.”

 

He grins, tilting his head to catch Sonny's averting eyes.

 

“Only for you.”

 

Sonny raises his eyebrows, and lets himself be seen by Rafael.

 

He needs to hear it again. The confirmation of Sonny's love.

 

“I love you, Raf,” he whispers, his eyes twinkling with knowledge. Because Sonny does know him, more intimately than anyone else.

 

He sighs with the comfort that he is known, and loved.

 

“I love you too.”


End file.
